


Gasp

by TheTruthBetweenRPF (TheTruthBetween)



Series: smut_69 [13]
Category: Broadway RPF, Wicked RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:32:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTruthBetween/pseuds/TheTruthBetweenRPF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megan had gasped again, a little more quietly this time.</p><p>smut_69 Prompt #67: Writer's Choice: Gasp</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gasp

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the pot scene in 9 to 5, where Judy gropes up Doralee's breasts.

The first time Stephanie's hands slid from Megan's cheeks, to her chest, to cup her breasts, the blonde had gasped loudly, stiffening. Her face flushed brightly as her nipples hardened, and Stephanie had jerked her hands back as though burned.

"Sorry! I'm sorry! ... I'm sorry." Wide brown eyes had been wider than usual, and Allison's eyebrows had traveled up to her hairline, not that either of the other two women noticed.

"No, no," Megan had protested, wrapping her arms around herself. " _I'm_ sorry." She glanced self-consciously at Joe, Dolly, the ensemble, all watching from various locations around the room. Just as her blush had started to subside, it came back, full force. Joe had been pinching the bridge of his nose, and Dolly, chuckling quietly. Megan's gaze had turned back to Stephanie, who'd still looked somewhat horrified. "It's just... I'm... sensitive," she'd said quietly.

Stephanie had nodded in understanding. "I'll... be careful?"

Megan had looked down at the floor between them, biting her lip. "Sorry," she murmured again. "It'll be better in the costume."

"Try again?" Joe had called, the hand holding the script resting on his hip.

They'd tried again.

Stephanie's hands cupped Megan's cheeks, warm under the cool fingers. Flitted down to the blonde's upper chest. Nipples had tightened, Megan biting her lip. Joe made a noise. Further down, and those cool hands were cupping soft breasts and hard nipples pressed into Stephanie's palms. Her hands shifted to the side. Megan had gasped again, a little more quietly this time.

The second rehearsal, Megan had managed to strangle her gasp, mostly. It had still escaped, to Megan's embarrassment, Allison's amusement and Stephanie's vague discomfort. But it hadn't interrupted the scene.

Every rehearsal, every time Stephanie's sure hands cupped Megan's breasts, the blonde felt a flush of heat spread through her. Every time, her nipples tightened against Stephanie's palms, and slowly, it became normal. Megan stopped being embarrassed. Allison stopped being amused. Stephanie stopped being uncomfortable.

And as fingers flitted over t-shirt covered breasts, Megan's embarrassment turned to simple arousal, and Stephanie's discomfort turned, equally, to arousal. She had, in fact, never touched a woman like that before, even for a role, and watching Megan's clear blue gaze darken caused a similar reaction in herself.

Rehearsal flowed smoothly.

Both got used to the sensations, both began to crave the sensations, although Dolly and Joe had had a conversation about how Megan really couldn't have hard nipples showing on stage every night. Thankfully dress rehearsals were coming up.

Now, the first day they ran through the show in full costume, Stephanie was the one to falter. Her hands slipped over Megan's cheeks, her chest, cupped her breasts. The gasp that had come to be expected, anticipated, craved, did not come. She paused. Her brow furrowed in something akin to confusion. It was only once Joe said her name that she realized she was sitting on her knees, her hands still on Megan's breasts, staring at them. It was like two enjoyable scenes had blended into one, and the result wasn't enjoyable in the least. Although the view was still nice.

It took another minute for Stephanie to gather her wits, and when she did, she skipped over the rest of the groping, straight to "Are these real?"

When rehearsal was finished and everyone was leaving, putting away their costumes, Stephanie knocked tentatively on Megan's dressing room door. At the call to enter, Stephanie did so, stepping into the pink painted room and closing the door behind her.

Megan smiled cheerfully. Stephanie didn't even try to respond in kind. She stepped forward. Megan tilted her head in slight confusion. Another step. Stephanie's name. A third step, and Stephanie was close enough to touch. Her name again, this time a little worried. One last step brought them close enough that their bodies were nearly touching. Megan seemed to notice, then, that Stephanie's dark eyes had turned nearly black. Her own widened.

Stephanie's hands came up, deliberately, and rested over Megan's breasts. A gasp tore from the blonde's throat, and nipples hardened immediately. This was different. This was Stephanie, touching Megan, not Judy touching Doralee.

"I wondered if I could still make you do that."

"Stephanie," Megan replied shakily, looking up, blue eyes hazy with confusion and arousal.

Stephanie squeezed, just lightly, and a strangled sound came from the blonde. Stephanie smiled.

Reaching up, Megan wrapped her fingers around Stephanie's wrists, although she made no move to pull the older woman's hands away. Still, Stephanie's hands shifted. But then, instead of the diffused arousal of a generic touch, Stephanie's thumbs pressed against the tight nipples, moving up and down over them, and Megan moaned, her head tilting back.

A moment later, Stephanie's lips covered hers, swallowing the sounds she continued to make.

They stood like that, Megan moaning and gasping against Stephanie's lips as the taller woman caressed her breasts. Long moments passed, lingered, hung between them, until Stephanie's hands slid down, to rest at Megan's waist. Their lips parted. Megan was panting for breath.

"We should go," Stephanie said quietly. "Rehearsal starts early tomorrow." Rehearsal always started early. "We both need sleep."

Megan nodded dumbly, and picked up her purse. She followed Stephanie into the hallway, out of the building, down the street to their hotel. At the third floor, the elevator stopped, and Megan's brow furrowed as Stephanie smiled brightly, giving her a hug and kiss on the cheek, along with the sentiment, "Sleep well. I'll see you tomorrow." Then Stephanie stepped out, and the elevator continued to the next floor, where Megan stepped off.

The rest of rehearsals followed the same pattern. Stephanie continued to miss the little gasp Megan used to let out, and satisfied the urge to hear it by following the blonde to her dressing room afterward. Standing in the middle of the room, her hands on Megan's breasts, the blonde gasping against her lips, Stephanie felt that it just might be okay that she didn't hear Megan gasp in rehearsal anymore.

When opening night rolled around, with its energy and stage-induced arousal, Stephanie's eager hands, instead of cupping Megan's breasts through her t-shirt, slipped under the thin fabric, under the pink bra, and the high-pitched noise Megan let out made the brunette shudder.

Stephanie's fingers lightly caressed, gliding over smooth skin and firm nipples, and Megan arched into the touch. For the first time her own hands slipped around the taller woman, holding Stephanie against her as strong hands manipulated her senses.

And then it was over, and they both pulled away, to return to their hotel rooms, to call the men they loved, to satisfy the ache that drove them, yet they both denied being caused by the other.

Whether Stephanie had intended the next step to occur on closing night or not, Megan's shirt and bra didn't find their way to the floor until then, and Stephanie found the freedom of movement glorious.

Where before she had been restricted to just moving her fingers, now, with Megan's shirt and bra a crumpled pile on the floor, she could fully enjoy the younger woman's breasts. Hands cupped, fingers teased, nails lightly scratched. And Megan gasped raggedly, her head fallen back helplessly. For once, Stephanie didn't kiss her, didn't swallow the sounds the blonde made. Instead, she teased further, basking in the needful whimpers, the husky moans, and, most importantly, the shallow gasps. It had become addicting, and Stephanie didn't know how she would get through the months without them.

But get through, she did, and when rehearsals started in New York, they found themselves right back in the same place, Stephanie following Megan to her dressing room afterward.

Stephanie surprised Megan that first time. The blonde was expecting it to be exactly how they had left off. Stephanie knew it was no longer enough, and the moment Megan's bra was out of the way, the taller woman bent, and pressed her lips around one nipple.

This time, Megan's gasp was mixed with Stephanie's name, and for the first time, Stephanie made a sound of her own, a deep groan. Her arms wrapped themselves around Megan's waist, holding the blonde to her as lips and teeth and tongue learned what fingers had long known.

Rehearsals evolved, but the actions that took place in Megan's dressing room continued the same every night, Stephanie bringing Megan to a state of writhing desperation with her mouth, only to stop, leaving the blonde unsatisfied.

The brunette had no intention of bringing it further than it had already come, but another opening night came about, and this time the sexual energy was more pronounced, the performance, more of a rush, and just when Stephanie was about to pull her mouth away from Megan's breasts and leave the theater for the night, the younger woman tangled her fingers in long brunette locks and gasped, "Please."

With that one word, Stephanie was undone, and the fingers that had little to do since relocation from Los Angeles to New York suddenly found themselves burdened with the task of removing the remainder of Megan's clothes. Megan nearly fell at the first touch of Stephanie's fingers, and they stumbled their way to the couch. Now in little danger of either of them falling, Stephanie found that Megan's body responded to each touch as if it were from a live wire. Hips rose with each curl of long fingers, twitched helplessly with each deep thrust, and every time Stephanie tilted her head down to take a pink nipple between her lips, Megan gasped.

"I love that sound."

It was the first time Stephanie had confessed the sentiment (as if Megan hadn't already figured it out) but later, the blonde would only remember that Stephanie had spoken and the husky tone her words had come out in. She wouldn't be able to recall the actual words. However, it didn't matter, because Stephanie's fingers were sure, and her lips were soft, and Megan's orgasm was heralded by a loud, raw gasp, directly into Stephanie's ear, and the older woman was sure that she would melt, for real, right there.

Months later, when they got the news that, sadly, the show was closing, blue eyes met brown, and a deep sort of knowledge passed between them. News of the end had come, and it was meant for more than just what took place on the stage every night. After that, a sense of desperation moved them that hadn't before been present.

When the final bow of the final show had been given, when the final word of the final speech had been spoken, Stephanie, for once, led the younger woman into her own dressing room. And on the couch, between the cross on her wall and the framed print from a fan of her and her husband, across from the array of pictures of family and friends on her vanity, there she lowered her mouth to Megan's body for the last time, and tasted the wetness she caused for the first.

Stephanie kept her eyes closed, trying to imprint every sound Megan made into her brain, memorize every moan, every whimper, every gasp. And when Megan's thighs strained, and her hips jerked, and her fingers curled into the cushions under her, Stephanie prayed that she would never forget the sound of those ragged gasps escaping the blonde's lips.

And afterward, they sat together, leaning against each other, Megan's head resting on Stephanie's shoulder. Then Megan said the brunette's name, and Stephanie's heart clenched, as she was hit with the sudden realization that it might have been the gasp that had first enthralled her, but it was the sigh, the soft exhale of her name, that wrapped itself around her heart and made her realize that over the months, she had fallen in love.

The gasp wasn't important. It was simply Megan.


End file.
